The mountains outside Osaka undulated in the twilight like slumbering dragons. Hidden within this greenery was the Gokurakukan, like a blood-red amber embedded in the hills.
In this country, Osaka was famous for its grand, lavish underground casinos. Yet the Gokurakukan was barely half the size of others, its remote location lending it a sinister air. Foot traffic was sparse, and it was closed to outside gamblers.
In short—it hadn't opened.
Because this was one of the Ghost Faction's strongholds.
"Tachibana Masamune" had gone offline because Herzog had dispatched the "Ōshō" here, to prevent Kazama Ruri from stirring up trouble that might split the Ghost Faction.
Though Kazama Ruri was one of Herzog's pawns—controlled via split-brain surgery—lately he had been unusually active, gathering followers. If he provoked internal division, it could be trouble.
Better to use the Holy Grail War as a distraction, turning his focus toward "avenging his brother."
Herzog, meanwhile, was busy relocating his privately raised team out of Tokyo before the Holy Grail War began, avoiding incidents like Shinjuku, and watching for the elusive Bondarev… His workload was overwhelming.
Playing two roles had its downside: when he was the only one making moves, he could control the pace. But with multiple actors in play, he was stretched thin, errors creeping in, and suspicion toward Tachibana Masamune grew.
…
The Ōshō, the Ghost Faction's number one figure, stepped into the Gokurakukan wearing his irritating courtier's smiling mask. The red-and-white paint gleamed eerily in the dim light.
The first thing to greet him was not a bowing line of black-suited members, but a long katana thrust toward him like a striking viper.
The blade's cold gleam cut the air with a hiss, carrying a faint floral scent in the summer breeze, stopping precisely an inch before his throat.
The attacker was the number two, "Ryūō" Kazama Ruri.
He wore a blood-red wide-sleeved kimono embroidered with swathes of spider lilies—higanbana, red as fresh blood.
His pale face was iced over, his voice cold as the depths of hell. "Ōshō, I think you've lost your way. This isn't your turf."
The surrounding black suits drew heavy magnum pistols—aimed not at Kazama Ruri, but at the Ōshō.
Clearly, none of these men belonged to the "Evolution Path" faction under the Ōshō—they were Kazama's "Ryūō faction."
The Ōshō seemed unfazed. "Oh? But isn't this Ghost Faction territory?" His tone was light, as if discussing the weather.
He noted how much larger Kazama's faction had grown—Ruri was slipping further from his control.
"Heh! Of course it is. And I know we can't kill you. But at least today, before you 'revive,' I can make you feel what it's like to be riddled with hundreds of magnum rounds until you're nothing but scraps of meat. That pain—you'll feel it."
Ruri's eyes held a glint of feigned fear—an act.
He knew the Ōshō's "immortality" was just a trick—hiding his true body while controlling clones. Killing one just meant another would appear.
There was no point exposing the truth. Better to play along, keep suspicion low, and quietly investigate the clones' origin.
"You're still impatient," the Ōshō said, stepping forward like an actor on a Noh stage, ignoring the blade at his neck. Ruri's sword traced arcs of silver as the two moved in a deadly dance.
"The Holy Grail War… what a marvelous ritual. Masters and Servants, blood and glory, the winner's omnipotent wish-granter… A tantalizing lure, or a trap?"
His voice turned cold. "Why wish for anything? Why not simply enjoy the feast? I'd use Heroic Spirits as perfect weapons, to devour the unworthy, and seek the true apex of the food chain—"
"Enough! Spare me your disgusting cannibalism theories!"
Ruri's sword lashed out, severing a strand of the Ōshō's hair.
"Fine, fine. I'll be direct," the Ōshō said. "Your dear 'Emperor' brother, Minamoto scion of the Eight Snake Families, is planning to enter the Holy Grail War."
"What! Is that true!?" Ruri's pupils shrank; this time his reaction was genuine.
"It's true. And he's blaming the Ghost Faction for orchestrating it. Such injustice!"
The Ōshō spread his hands theatrically. "Think about it. With our scale, if we had Heroic Spirit tech, would we really flaunt it by holding a Grail War? That'd be suicide—especially if it drew the Secret Party's attention. Even the Eight Snake Families would have to bow."
"If it's not you, then who's behind it?" Ruri's sword tip stayed at his throat, but his gaze deepened. He didn't believe the Ōshō, and from Shirou's intel, knew the mastermind shared the same cloning tech—too much of a 'coincidence.'
"Who it is doesn't matter. What matters is the Eight Snake Families are coming for us. If they alone control Heroic Spirits, we're finished. We must join the Grail War too—secure a Servant!"
Ruri lowered his blade.
"Join the Holy Grail War? Fine. But the Master seat is mine!"
"Of course! Only you, my finest creation, deserve it!" The Ōshō clapped, laughing unpleasantly. "Your good brother will summon the land's greatest demon-slayer… What about you?"
Ruri's eyes glinted red. He saw again the image of Genji Asama's blade piercing his chest. Hatred surged through his veins.
"Hmph. For the Ghost Faction, only the most infamous oni will do."
That oni—had to be Shuten Dōji.
In their own records, Shuten Dōji was the leader of the Ghost Faction's predecessor, the band of oni at Mt. Ōe—a true identity being Minamoto no Raikou's own brother, Minamoto no Yorimitsu.
Ruri—Genji Asajo—was also a Minamoto son, slain by his brother Genji Asama.
How fitting. Demon-slayer versus demon. Brother against brother. Fate, replayed after a thousand years.
"Message delivered. You can leave now."
He lifted his blade suddenly and, before the Ōshō could speak, sliced off his head in a flash.
———
Tokyo's night hung like a vast net over the sleepless city.
Leaving the Minamoto Heavy Industries building far behind, Shirou headed toward the bank to deposit his check. The string of zeros seemed to carry weight in his palm.
His phone lit up—Kazama Ruri. The gist: if the Minamoto clan summoned the greatest demon-slayer, Raikou, in the Grail War, how should the Ghost Faction summon the greatest oni?
So you all want to jump into the Grail War pit, huh? he thought. But it made sense—between the masked Ōshō's scheming and Raikou's summoning, Ruri would be in the weakest position. Without a Servant, he'd be done for.
But…
"How did you know they plan to summon Raikou?"
"The Ōshō told me. His intel's always good—he must have planted many spies. He denies making the Grail War, but I don't believe him."
Spies that high-level? Shirou's mind flickered through the faces of the family heads at today's meeting.
"How about this—ever heard of 'chain summoning'? When one Servant manifests, others connected to them can be summoned in succession."
Examples: Zhao Yun summoning Liu Shan, Zhuge Liang summoning Sima Yi, or in the Sixth Singularity, Ramses II summoning Nitocris along with all of Egypt.
As a Ghost Faction descendant of the Mt. Ōe oni, Ruri could already summon an oni by bloodline. And with Raikou as his sworn enemy, the oni that could appear was none other than the one she slew—Shuten Dōji.
Hearing this, Ruri sent a huge payment to Shirou's account.
Shirou's palm felt hot as he pocketed his phone.
…This money was almost too easy.
(End of Chapter)
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